


Teatime

by i_eat_men_like_air



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Brief Mention Of Fitzier Occurring Two Doors Down, Collins' Canonically Huge Dick Is A Main Plot Feature, Comeplay, Deepthroating, Face-Sitting, Hair Kink, Jopson Competency Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Size Kink, Size Queen Thomas Jopson Is Having A Great Time, Slight Dirty Talk, Slight Mess Kink, Smut, oh boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29365722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_eat_men_like_air/pseuds/i_eat_men_like_air
Summary: Tom busied himself with scrubbing at the Captain’s shirtsleeves, stained with black ink from where the man had haphazardly filled in the ship’s log. The Captain rarely did anything with finesse, that was a truth Tom had observed over the years he had been the man’s steward. He was sitting comfortably in his cabin, scrubbing fiercely at the stains and occasionally laughing quietly at a particularly loud curse or shout. His door was open, as he preferred it for ease of access to the Captain if summoned, and he looked up with a yelp as he noticed the figure standing in his door.‘Mr. Collins! Good heavens, sir, you scared me out of my skin! What can I do for you?’ Tom set his work down and stood up, smiling jovially at Erebus’ Second Master.
Relationships: Henry Foster Collins/Thomas Jopson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2021





	Teatime

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 5 of The Terror Rarepair Week, for the prompt 'Don't Pretend'.

Tom Jopson chuckled at the noise coming from the Captain’s cabin. It hadn’t taken long, from the time Fitzjames had rapped sharply on the door, for the muffled yelps and grunts of the two most senior officers on the ship to reach Tom’s ears. He smiled indulgently, glad that his Captain was happy, for now anyway, and wished they would be a little quieter; Tom didn’t mind the flagrant disregard for the Articles, but he mused that someone such as Irving would have a heart attack if he heard what the pair of them were up to.

Tom busied himself with scrubbing at the Captain’s shirtsleeves, stained with black ink from where the man had haphazardly filled in the ship’s log. The Captain rarely did anything with finesse, that was a truth Tom had observed over the years he had been the man’s steward. He was sitting comfortably in his cabin, scrubbing fiercely at the stains and occasionally laughing quietly at a particularly loud curse or shout. His door was open, as he preferred it for ease of access to the Captain if summoned, and he looked up with a yelp as he noticed the figure standing in his door.

‘Mr. Collins! Good heavens, sir, you scared me out of my skin! What can I do for you?’ Tom set his work down and stood up, smiling jovially at Erebus’ Second Master.

The tall, broad man stood there silently for a moment, his honey-brown eyes a touch wider than usual. Tom hadn’t spoken to Collins very much, but he seemed to be a decent chap, polite and hard-working, with large, powerful hands that made Tom blink a little more than usual whenever he saw them. He was a handsome man, was Mr. Collins, quiet and strange as he appeared on occasion. It took a moment, for Collins to gather himself, and Tom waited patiently, keeping his face a mask of friendly curiosity.

‘I was looking for the Captain, Jopson, but uh…’ Collins’ voice trailed off and Tom noticed a soft, pink flush creep up the man’s face with a small smile.

‘The Captain is otherwise engaged at the moment, sir, can I be of any assistance, perhaps?’ Tom watched the man carefully; he had noticed Collins watching him a few times, but he had reasoned that the man looked at everyone like  _ that _ nowadays, as if he were a sheepdog mere moments from bolting off his leash. Collins looked in the direction of the Captain’s cabin and swallowed loudly. Tom smiled kindly again, enjoying the presence of another warm body, and not wanting to spook the poor man by talking too loudly.

‘I could make us some tea, sir? If you’re happy to wait here?’ 

Collins blinked at him, once, twice, and nodded quickly. Tom smiled at the charming way the man’s hair fell across his face, salt and black and wild as Collins brushed it away with a bashful grin.

‘That’s mighty kind of you, Jopson, I wouldn’t want to get under your feet though…’

Tom straightened up, fixing Collins’ blinking eyes with his own steady, blue ones and keeping his smile in place.

‘It’s no trouble at all, sir, there’s not much in the way of space here but you’re welcome to have a seat on the bed and I’ll fetch us both a cuppa, hm?’ he breathed a soft sigh of relief as Collins nodded slowly, enjoying the easy smile that spread over the man’s face.

Collins’ smile was wide, lopsided, and utterly charming, adding a soft light to his features that Tom thoroughly appreciated. It was nice seeing the broad man smile, when he so often seemed plagued by a grey cloud of one kind or another. Tom stepped outside his quarters, and gestured for Collins to have a seat, before rushing off to grab them some tea. It was highly irregular, inviting an officer into his berth, but he had been watching Collins for years, and figured that if the Captain was going to have some fun then so was he. God bless Doctor Peddie, whose cabin was between the Captain’s and Tom’s, for being either a very heavy sleeper, or a very discreet man.

Tom hurriedly threw together a pair of steaming mugs of tea and dashed back to his quarters, not wanting to leave Collins alone for too long, lest he disappear into the woodwork. It was late, and the ship’s hallways were far quieter than they were during the day, so Tom appeared back at his quarters in near-record time, sighing with relief as he saw Collins still sat on the bed where he had left him. 

‘Here you are, sir, warm you up a bit,’ Tom shut the door to his cabin, and passed Collins a mug before perching on the bed beside him.

Collins thanked him with another heartbreakingly sweet smile, and blew the steam off the tea before taking a swig.

‘Thank you, Mr. Jopson, very nice, sir,’ Collins looked as if he meant it as well, and Tom blinked in surprise at the honorific. 

‘I’m not a ‘sir’, Mr. Collins! Heaven forbid,’ Thomas smiled broadly and turned until one of his legs was half-tucked under his backside, so he could talk to Collins directly.

Collins’ face went a charming shade of pink, and Tom chuckled kindly as the man stared into his tea.

‘How about you just call me Tom, sir, seen as we’re on our own here,’ he kept his tone light, still not wanting the big man to startle, and breathed in relief once again as Collins nodded.

‘You can call me Henry then, I s’pose,’ Collins took another slurp of his tea and smiled back at Tom.

‘Pleased to meet you, Henry,’ Tom held out a hand to shake Collins’, and could have swooned as the man’s big, rough hands enveloped his own.

‘Pleased to meet you, too, Tom,’ Collins chuckled, shaking his head slightly in what looked like gentle, confused wonderment.

Tom was reluctant to let go of Collins’ hand, holding it gently and admiring the thick grey-black hair that covered the back of it. He looked up at Collins - Henry - checking that the man wasn’t uncomfortable. Tom breathed in carefully as he watched Henry’s face; it was blushed an even deeper pink now, almost red, and his eyes were fixed on where Tom was holding their hands together.

‘Is this alright, Henry?’ Tom leaned into Henry’s space, noting that the man was shaking like a leaf.

Henry was not much taller than him, but he was significantly bulkier, and Tom blushed at the sight of him shivering. Tom stroked the hair on the back of his hand gently, waiting for an answer. It came slowly, with Henry blinking rapidly, as if to clear a fog from his mind.

‘It’s more than alright, Tom,’ Henry’s voice was husky in the quiet of Tom’s cabin; Tom set his tea on the floor, petting the man’s whiskers with his newly free hand and leaning in closer.

‘It’s just, well, I’ve seen you looking, Henry,’ he stroked the man’s hand reassuringly as Henry baulked at the statement, ‘don’t fret, no one else would’ve noticed, but I’ve seen you. Don’t pretend otherwise, Henry.’

Henry swallowed heavily, leaning gently against Tom’s hand at his cheek. Tom raked his fingers carefully through the coarse hair of Henry’s muttonchops, enjoying the texture and teasing out the small knots as he went. Was the man as hairy as this all over? His hands certainly suggested it. Tom wanted to peel that big, woolly jumper away and get a good look. 

‘I’m sorry, Tom, I didn’t think you’d notice,’ Henry’s face fell, ‘didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable it’s just that…’ 

‘Just what, Henry, you can tell me,’ Tom cupped Henry’s face with both hands now, scratching his chops and drinking in the softness that flooded the man’s features.

_ Just like a sheepdog _ , Tom thought,  _ he just wants to be touched _ . Henry blushed again, setting his own mug of tea down on the small desk that was set against the wall, and rested his big, shaky hands on Tom’s thighs.

‘Just that you’re dreadfully handsome, Tom, I couldn’t keep myself from looking, I s’pose.’

Tom smiled at the compliment, and pressed a soft kiss to the side of Henry’s mouth.

‘ _ Dreadfully _ handsome, hm?’ he teased, enjoying the way Henry’s hands tensed on his thighs as he kissed him. 

Henry chuckled ruefully, big hands massaging Tom’s thighs absentmindedly.

‘Aye, Tom, you’ve got such lovely eyes, and your hair just  _ shines _ under the lamps, and you’re always so put together, and your arse is - well,’ Henry exhaled in an appreciative  _ whoosh  _ of warm air.

Tom’s eyes sparkled, soaking up Henry’s words. 

‘You like the look of my arse, then, Henry?’ Tom asked with a smirk, laughing as Henry nodded sheepishly.

‘I like the look of all of you, truth be told, Tom.’

Tom’s smirk widened, enjoying the sweet, shy look that Henry was giving him. 

‘Well it’s a good thing I like the look of all of you, too, then,’ he kissed Henry again, this time letting their lips lock together and humming into Henry’s mouth, stroking his chops in gentle circles.

‘I’m not much to look at, Tom,’ Henry mumbled quietly, pulling off of Tom’s mouth with a sigh.

‘Nonsense, Henry, I’d look at you all day if I could,’ Tom pressed small, careful kisses to Henry’s weather chapped lips as he spoke, ‘you’re a real treat.’

Henry grumbled, and Tom smothered the noise with his tongue, licking into the man’s mouth and sucking his bottom lip gently. Henry’s hands moved to rest at the base of his spine, kneading the firm muscle there carefully.

‘Move those lovely hands a little lower, Mr. Collins,’ Tom whispered into Henry’s mouth, moaning quietly as he felt Henry cup his arse and pull them closer together.

Tom adjusted his legs so he was kneeling on the bed next to Henry, and wrapped his arms around the man’s broad, muscular shoulders with a sigh. He deepened the kiss, pressing their chests together and relishing the heft of Henry against him. 

‘Lie back, sir,’ Tom breathed against Henry’s ear, and shuffled around until Henry was laying with his head on the pillow, barely breaking the kiss as he positioned himself atop the big, broad-chested man.

Henry gulped as Tom looked down at him, his head cocked to one side in a teasing show of curiosity. Tom leaned down to kiss him again, moaning softly as he felt his hardening cock rub up against Henry’s own. 

_ Bloody hell _ . Tom paused, momentarily stilled from the shock of it, as he took in the size of the man’s cockstand. Even confined within his trousers and smalls, the thing made Tom’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. He looked up, feeling Henry’s eyes on him, and could have laughed at the glaze of embarrassment that covered the man’s face. 

‘You don’t have to do anything with it, Tom, awful bloody thing,’ Henry mumbled, refusing to meet Tom’s eyes, ‘I’m more than happy just to look after you.’

Tom felt his heart ache a little at how defeated the big, burly man appeared. His mouth curled into a smirk as felt a little flare of competition in his belly; let no man say that Thomas Jopson was one to turn down a challenge. Tom pressed the flat of his hand to Henry’s straining cockstand, kneading the hot shape of it firmly. 

‘I’ll do what I like with you, and  _ it _ , I think, Mr. Collins,’ Tom grinned, ‘and I’d like to see you properly.’

Henry’s eyes widened a fraction at Tom’s self-assured tone, and he nodded with a gulp. Tom chuckled softly, and began to haul Henry out of his big, heavy coat and thick jumper. He raked his hands through the man’s thick, greying chest hair, only briefly surprised at the lack of shirt or undershirt - it seemed his Henry ran warmer than most. Tom kneaded at his chest and stomach, admiring the thickness of him, all sturdy fat and coarse hair layered over powerful muscle. Henry moaned quietly, thrusting carefully against Tom, clearly trying to restrain himself. 

‘You’ll not hurt me, Henry, don’t strain yourself,’ Tom whispered, scraping his blunt nails over Henry’s nipples; squirming with enjoyment as the larger man whimpered from the contact. 

Tom moved to kiss along the line of Henry’s muttonchops, nosing at the scratchy hair with a satisfied sound; he smelled like sweat and wool and leather, and Tom licked at the damp skin, pleased to find that Henry tasted absolutely delightful as well. He told him so, and chuckled when Henry blinked, his eyes wide and bashful.

‘I’d like to ride you, Mr. Collins, if you don’t mind?’ Tom kept his mouth close to Henry’s ear as he spoke, enjoying how the man quivered beneath him.

Henry blinked frantically, a flush spreading from his face down to his chest.

‘Tom, I - you - you don’t have to…’ Henry breathed out, looking as if he might suddenly crawl off of the bed and in between the planks of the floor.

‘I know that, sir, but I  _ want _ to,’ Tom murmured, nipping at Henry’s ear with a grin as the big man bucked up against him. 

Tom shuffled back a little, giving himself room to undo Henry’s trousers and free that monster of a thing from its confines. He exhaled in awe as he pulled it out, mouth watering conspicuously at the thought of having the weight of the damn thing stretch his throat. Henry was whimpering, eyes wide as he watched Tom bend and suckle gently at his crown, not even trying to take it all in for the moment. 

‘Can’t believe I’ve waited so long to see this lovely fat prick of yours, sir, you really should’ve put it to use already, y’know. Ought to have bent me over the wardroom desk and had your way with me,’ Tom grinned, teasing Henry’s foreskin with short, firm strokes as he spoke, relishing at how Henry’s head fell back. ‘Would you like that, sir? Fucking me open with this gorgeous cock, making me scream for you, all while the Captain watched? I think you would…’

Tom stretched his mouth open, barely conscious of the ache in his jaw as he swallowed Henry down. He felt Henry’s big, powerful thighs strain against him, and rested his hand on the man’s round, firm belly in an entirely futile attempt to keep him steady. If Henry wanted to, he could thrust into Tom’s throat and completely destroy him, but Tom doubted he would; Henry was a gentle sort, even when he seemed panicked or dour - he wouldn’t hurt Tom.

Swallowing slowly, Tom took more of the improbable thing into his mouth, easing his way down until he felt a tickle at the back of his throat. He opened his eyes, and felt them widen as he realised he was barely halfway down. No wonder the man was so bloody sweet all the time; with a prick like this, he had nothing in the world to compensate for. He swallowed again, basking in the little noises he was dragging out of the man below him.

‘Mmph…’ Tom mumbled softly as he pushed himself down a little more - inch by lovely inch - and groaned when he felt the tickle of warm hair against his nose.

He looked up, mouth stretched obscenely, lips curled back to cover his teeth, and would have happily spent in his smalls when he saw the near-feral look on Henry’s face. It was an endearing sort of wildness, with no promise of aggression, and all the expression of a man who had rarely (if ever, Tom thought, lightheaded) had a person swallow him down completely. 

Henry’s cock throbbed in his mouth, and Tom groaned as the crown of the thing fit snugly into his throat; breathing wasn’t important for the moment, all he could focus on was how wonderful it felt to be filled. He rubbed his tongue slowly at the underside of Henry’s prick, as best he could given the unprecedented lack of space in his mouth, and felt his eyes roll back in his head as Henry’s hips jerked upwards.

Tom choked, spluttering as Henry shoved his prick further still down his throat. Henry stilled almost immediately, letting out a terrified and entirely uncharacteristic  _ squeak _ of apology. Tom petted his trouser-covered thighs gently, trying to reassure the man through touch alone. He wanted to feel Henry’s skin against his hands, and he slowly wiggled the man’s trousers and smalls down; easing the prick from his throat so he could suck at it properly. 

Satisfied with the warmth of Henry’s broad, hairy thighs under his palms, Tom let himself become lost in the sensation of Henry’s cock, letting it stretch his mouth until it hurt. But what a wonderful hurt, he mused; such a wonderful, full feeling. He let his tongue trace over the thick, pulsing veins, laving at them firmly - he let his hands wander down to cup Henry’s heavy, hairy stones and squeeze - he gave himself over to instinct, sucking and slurping with a total lack of precision or finesse, desperate to feel every inch of that huge length against his tongue. Henry’s hands grasped at his shoulders, and whined out a warning: he was close, he would spend if Tom kept going.

Tom moaned and pulled off slowly, not wanting Henry to spend until he had felt that huge bloody thing in his arse, and not wanting to do himself an injury by locking his jaw open. He grinned with satisfaction as Henry’s hips thrust upwards, chasing the hot wetness of his mouth. 

‘ _ Bloody hellfire, Tom _ ,’ Henry’s voice was small and reverent, his eyes wet with tears.

Tom pressed his lips to the corner of Henry’s mouth with a chuckle. If the man was shocked at the feel of Tom’s mouth, wait until he felt his arse around him. Tom felt his hole twitch at the thought, and reached under his mattress to pull out the jar of wool grease he used on the rare nights he had to himself. He set it down on the small table by his berth, and grinned wickedly at Henry, who seemed to have lost the power of speech. 

‘Are you gonna work me open, sir?’ Tom smirked, ‘Get me ready for that lovely big yard of yours?’

Henry nodded frantically, reaching for the jar before Tom grabbed his wrist gently.

‘Oh no, not quite yet, sir, you just stay there,’ Tom smiled sympathetically as Henry whimpered, a sweet sound that dissolved into a  _ groan _ as Tom shuffled up his chest.

It had been a long time since Tom had done  _ this  _ particular act with anyone; as he deftly pulled off his trousers and underwear and settled his legs either side of Henry’s head he cursed himself for dancing around the man for so many years instead of just dragging the Second Master into a cupboard and having him bugger him silly.

He felt Henry’s hot breath against his fundament, and sighed happily as he lowered himself down, grinding against the man’s mouth with a low moan. It felt spectacular; Henry’s tongue was thick and uncoordinated, and his lips were rough against Tom’s hole, but it was perfect. Tom let out a soft whine as he felt Henry’s chops against the tender skin of his buttocks, and ground down harder, rubbing himself against the coarseness of the hair and the slippery, hot wetness of the man’s tongue. He could have stayed there all night, perfectly happy to let the man suck at his fundament and work that big, heavy tongue inside him. Tom frigged himself gently, not wanting to spill before the other big, heavy elephant in the room had been in his arse, but enjoying the combined pressures of his hand and Henry’s mouth nonetheless. 

He heard a whimper from Henry, and looked down to see a thin line of milky-clear liquid dripping from his prick into the man’s hair. Tom grinned, gathering the slick as best he could and twisting his arm around to push it into his hole, alongside Henry’s tongue. Henry whimpered, and Tom groaned with him, as his index finger connected with Henry’s lips. He pushed his own slick inside carefully, rubbing his finger over the underside of Henry’s tongue. The man must be in a state by now, surely, but he didn’t want to let that giant of a cockstand near his arse without being good and ready.

‘ _ Use the grease, sir, slick me up good and proper _ ,’ Tom whispered, opening the jar and shoving it into Henry’s waiting hand.

Henry struggled to get a good dollop of the stuff, but Tom wasn’t about to move from his position to make it easier; he was terribly comfortable. Tom swallowed down a yelp as Henry pressed his fingers into him. No one at a time for him, apparently, Henry had two fingers inside him almost immediately: thick and twisting. They made Tom’s index finger feel like a pinkie, and Tom whimpered in appreciation as Henry worked him open. His hole must be a mess, slicked up with saliva and pre-cum and grease, gaping wide, and Tom writhed at the thought.

He wanted Henry to wreck him - to ruin him for any other man - and he was well on the way to getting what he wanted. Henry crooked his fingers firmly, and Tom felt stars explode behind his eyes. Tom ground down onto Henry’s mouth and fingers, his prick steadily leaking a stream of sticky liquid into the man’s hair and over his forehead, ruining the pillow below him. He wouldn’t last much longer like this.

‘Henry,  _ Henry _ ,’ he gasped out, unsure of how long he had been kneeling over Henry’s face, shuffling clumsily back down the man’s chest; all the coordination in his legs slowly disappearing.

Henry, dear, sweet thing that he was, looked an absolute  _ disaster _ . His hair was matted and his forehead was shiny with Tom’s pre-cum and his own sweat; his eyes were glazed over, giving him a dreamy expression; his mouth and whiskers were  _ drenched _ , a combination of sweat, saliva, pre-cum and grease that shone under the flickering candlelight of the room. 

‘Oh,  _ Henry _ , you’re all a mess,’ Tom teased, running his fingers through thick chest hair also matted down with a trail of slick from his arse. 

‘Wonder why that is?’ Henry wheezed out, coughing out a soft laugh and gazing up at Tom fondly. 

Tom returned the gaze, chest swelling with fondness for the large, quiet man. He reached around, toying with his hole to check he was ready, before shuffling down further and gulping mat the feel of Henry’s enormous prick between his buttocks. 

‘Ready?’ he asked, softly, trying to keep his face calm as he looked down at Henry’s glistening face. 

‘Only if you’re sure, Tom,’ Henry’s voice was shaking, his hands clutching at the thin bedsheets.

‘‘Course I’m sure, love, else I wouldn’t be kneelin’ over you like this, with my arse all gaped and spread open,’ Tom winked, uncaring that his usual accent had all but disintegrated, and Henry’s head fell back onto the sticky pillow with a groan.

Tom hiked himself up, twisting gently until he felt the head of Henry’s cockstand press against his opening. He felt his breath hitch at the size of the thing, and relaxed as best he could before pushing down. 

The pressure was immense, burning, transcendent. Tom dragged Henry’s hand up to his mouth, holding it there to stifle his cries. He couldn’t breath, couldn’t move, and it felt  _ perfect _ . Henry was frozen still beneath him, eyes wild with panic as he watched Tom slide himself further and further down onto his cock. Tom bit into the meat of Henry’s hand, whining and whimpering as he worked his way down, sweating with the strain of it. He’d never felt a thing like this before; it was  _ consuming _ him, stretching every nerve in his body until he felt he might come apart. 

It felt like days had passed, years even, by the time he felt Henry’s thick, straining hips and belly against his stones. He opened his eyes, releasing a dam that had been holding back tears of effort, and stared down at Henry like he was the sun. Burning and  _ beautiful _ . Henry was staring up at him, too, matching the feverish intensity of Tom’s gaze and panting heavily. 

Tom gasped out Henry’s name like a prayer, squeezing the man’s chest and belly with frantic hands, kneading the damp, hairy flesh in an attempt to ground himself. He could feel every ridge, every vein of Henry’s cock inside him; he could feel Henry’s  _ pulse _ inside him, for God’s sake, throbbing against the little bundle inside his arse in a way that made his prick and his spine feel as if they were on fire. Henry’s free hand was pressing into Tom’s thigh, and Tom damn near swooned at the thought of the bruise he would have there; shaped like Henry’s big, beautiful hand.

After some considerable time (how long, he didn’t venture a guess; time had ceased to have any meaning in his little cabin) Tom braced his hands on Henry’s chest, as confident as he could be that he had adjusted to the enormous thing inside him. 

‘Stay very still, sir,’ Tom panted, only the barest sliver of authority left in his voice, ‘I’m gonna fuck myself on this great, throbbing cock of yours, and you’re gonna lie back and watch, d’you understand?’

Henry nodded hastily, and Tom felt the man settle himself, bracing his feet on the sheets and balling up his hands by his sides. Tom scooped a touch more of the wool grease from the jar, and reached around to rub it over his rim, groaning at how stretched the tender flesh felt. Satisfied that there was enough slick in place, Tom slowly, gingerly, began to move. Henry whimpered beneath him, powerful muscles straining under that lovely layer of hair as he fought to stay still. Tom gasped at the sensation, the thick, pulsing flesh dragging over every part of him; over every quivering, intimate inch of his insides. 

Tom fucked himself slowly, smoothing his hair away from his eyes and wiping the sweat from his brow as he moved. Henry was staying beautifully still, even as Tom began to pick up the pace, only the shiver of his hands and belly betraying just how hard he was working not to thrust up into Tom’s slick, clenching arsehole. 

Tom groaned, muffling the sound with his sleeve, as he began to fuck himself in earnest. Henry’s cock twitched as Tom rode him, lifting up and slamming back down with a strangled gasp over and over again. Tom whined, ignoring the ache in his knees as he fucked himself onto Henry’s huge, perfect cock. He leaned in to kiss Henry, licking the grease - pre-cum - saliva slick from his lips and whiskers, moaning into the man’s thickly furred neck and chest. Henry’s arms wrapped around Tom’s neck, holding him close and kissing him fervently, jamming their mouths together as Tom moaned. He could feel Henry panting into his mouth, tongue hot and tasting of black tea and salt. Tom moved to grope at Henry’s chest, squeezing at the larger man's tits with a groan, revelling in the weight of those lovely, hair-covered mounds in his hands. 

Henry whimpered as Tom ground himself against his chest and onto his cock - soft, gravelly voice rendered high and girlish as Tom clenched around him. Tom gasped as he felt Henry’s hand reach between them and grasp his own throbbing cockstand, rough calluses dragging across his overly sensitive flesh and making his eyes flutter closed. He buried his head in Henry’s neck again, biting at the hairy skin of the man’s shoulder and moaning wildly as Henry’s cock spread fireworks through his every nerve - ramming himself onto it as hard as he dared. 

Tom was flying, his hole aching blissfully; the weight of that thing inside him - the drag of it over that magical place - the little sounds Henry was making, it was all sending him hurtling towards his climax with no hope of holding back. He ground his teeth down into the meat of Henry’s shoulder as his release hit him like a tonne of bricks, groaning low and long as his hole clenched down like a vice and his cock spent in thick, white ropes all over the hair of Henry’s abdomen. 

He felt Henry freeze below him, and clenched down with a groan as the man filled him up even further, hot bursts of seed shooting into his deepest parts. Henry was silent as he came, his mouth open in a perfect ‘O’ and head thrown back against the ruined pillow, and Tom panted as he felt the man shaking wildly beneath him. 

Tom couldn’t move; his limbs were numb, his throat was bone-dry, and his cock was twitching admirably between his and Henry’s stomachs, spurting out small blurts of seed as Henry’s cock rested on that magical bundle inside him, still wringing him out even as it softened. He was shaking against Henry, both of them shivering with exhaustion and effort, and he smiled broadly as he rested his head against Henry’s chest, not minding the sticky wetness of it against his cheek.

Tom winced into Henry’s thick rug of chest hair as he felt the larger man pulling his prick slowly from his body, the thick head of it catching at his rim and making Tom gasp. A thick, slow trickle of spend followed, leaking onto the sheets and mattress to create a warm pool of liquid between Tom and Henry’s legs as they lay still. Tom winced again as he felt thick, gentle fingers probe at his gaping opening, and looked up at Henry with blurry, surprised eyes.

‘Checking for blood,’ Henry explained, softly, looking at his fingers that were (thankfully) only coated with his seed, and no redness, ‘sorry if I hurt you.’

Henry kissed his forehead, and Tom reached up to suck the wet fingers into his mouth with a lazy hum, twirling his tongue around to clean them. He pulled off of Henry’s fingers with a smile, and kissed at the large man’s chest, enjoying the coarseness of the hair against his tongue.

‘You didn’t hurt me, love,’ Tom smiled up at Henry’s concerned face, petting his whiskers gently, ‘you were perfect.’

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever stop comparing Collins to a sheepdog? Unlikely.


End file.
